


In His Arms

by RobinWritesChirps



Series: The Apocalypse Is Upon Us (Starkid Post-Apocalypse AU) [2]
Category: Twisted: The Untold Story of a Royal Vizier - Holmes/McMahon/Lang & Lang & Gale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Reunion Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22865827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinWritesChirps/pseuds/RobinWritesChirps
Summary: Ja’far and Sherrezade reunite after way too long apart from each other’s embrace.Smut outtake to "If We Ever Grow Apart", my crossover Starkid post-apocalypse longfic.
Relationships: Ja'far/Sherrezade (Twisted: The Untold Story of a Royal Vizier)
Series: The Apocalypse Is Upon Us (Starkid Post-Apocalypse AU) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643620
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	In His Arms

**Author's Note:**

> This evidently cannot be read without having read the main fic up until the end. It takes place in the epilogue.

Sherrezade's tour of the cave had had a certain final destination from the moment she had recognized the shape of her long lost husband. If she rushed through it to reach the final step, then Dead-God would have to forgive her for that, all judgment be damned. Ja'far's hand was snug in hers, squeezing in anticipation, and finally thirteen years of solitary nights came to an end.

"Welcome to the bedroom," she said teasingly, snapping open the drape that was her door.

This little nook into rock of hers was a bit secluded from the rest of the community down the cave. Ever since she had fallen, she had without meaning to made herself a reputation among the other mutants and outcasts. She was the lonely one, the morose woman who longed for the man she would never see again. But in his arms, she was lively again. The part of her she had never thought would wake again was thriving back to life and she felt young and beautiful and in the thrill of love. Her love for Ja'far had never faded, not in thirteen years and not ever, but she was finally letting go of the pain of the past. Without him, she had existed, dragged herself dully from one day to the next. With him, she was a tease, a muse. With him, she lived.

"Care for a visit?"

He kissed the teasing grin off her lips and Sherrezade's cheeks were suddenly burning, she was certain, very pink, for his fingertips brushed gently against them with a fascinated adoration. She knew her skin was marred with the illness that had taken her ear, but in this instant she felt like she contained all the beauty in this fallen world for the way he looked at her.

"Show me the way, my dear."

"Although, surely a man of science and knowledge would guess the way himself," she retorted and his eyes glinted with mirth at her words. "And the destination."

He was looking at her with a satisfied easy grin. She had missed that. She had missed every single detail of him. They passed the threshold and she tied back the drape securely, though she expected that the others would not distract her tonight − or any future night. Ja'far surprised her with an embrace, swirling her around before she had even the time to turn back on her own. Arms snug round her waist, he pulled her close and kissed her so deeply, so deliberately that Sherrezade's heart could have sung out in relief. Her fingers were numb with lack of practice and with anticipation as she slowly unwrapped the scarf from his neck and flattened her hand against his torso, feeling the beat of his heart pulsing strong under her skin even through coarse fabric.

"Did you want it back?" He asked in a low voice.

She shook her head gently.

"All yours," she replied, her voice matching his whisper. Her fingers tapped his chest in an impatience she couldn't contain. " _All_ yours."

She took a step forward which he matched backwards. A push of her hands against the fabric at his shoulders and Ja'far shrugged off his jacket. Their fingers met at unbuttoning the tunic underneath and she could have purred for joy at the sight of bare skin. Her husband, her lover, now and then the only man for her. How she relished in him, every single inch of him.

"You're beautiful," she told him, squeezing him at the waist, her fingers rediscovering old sensations she had never quite forgotten. "Handsome as you ever were, except moreso, I think."

He was foolishly flattered by her honeyed words, gave her the tenderest of kisses to prove it, and almost stumbled when she pushed him another step closer to the bed. At the last moment, he swirled them around and it was her back that hit the bed first as he lay her down with all the care in the world. Leaning on strong arms she wrapped her hands around, he looked down at her like he was seeing her for the very first time and marveled.

"Sherrezade..."

Careful fingers unbuckled the straps of her coat. She should have helped him, she thought, for ease and speed, but the sheer raw joy of being undressed by him was unmatched by any notion of practicality. He pushed the thick fabric aside and Sherrezade, whose body had been seen only by herself for thirteen year and especially since the shame of her scars had plagued her, was for a moment the most beautiful woman in the world again under his adoring gaze.

"I've longed for you," he said and kissed her lips softly. He kissed her chin, the scars that ran from it to her jaw. "I've missed you." He kissed her neck, her collarbone.

He peeled the sleeves off of her and she let out a silent huff when the garment hit the ground − yet one step closer to her love. A kiss down her throat and his hands pushed up her blouse, reawakened a thousand memories, fingertips tracing a gentle path up her belly, round the curve of her breasts. Lips met with fingers in a blur of caresses that left her breathless and crazy. It was pushed all the way off with her needy help and she sighed in relief when his mouth was on her again. She wrapped her arms round his shoulders, buried fingers in his hair. It was longer than it had been, though not by much, still as thick and sturdy in her hold. Lips circling a nipple, fingers the other, Ja'far moaned into her skin and Sherrezade could only press herself up into the heavy form of him, hoping to close all possible distance from him. Skin against skin, hearts beating as one.

"I've craved you," he added in a deep whisper.

His hand between her legs through her trousers, the palm pressing against her as she better parted her thighs for him.

" _Ja'far_ ," she moaned.

The name had never left her mind but had not passed her lips in years, the memory to heavy to bear to speak it. How freeing it was to finally let it out, better even than any pet name. Ja'far untied the sash from her waist, pulled her trousers down and both of them let out the same laugh strangled by emotion when he dropped little tickling kisses down her legs as the garment fell fully off. Then, back in her arms, an open-mouthed trail across her stomach and…

" _Don't_ ," she said suddenly and at his quizzical doubt, hastily added, "I'd rather look into your eyes, love. Stay here."

She had him smiling then. He rearranged himself above her, leaning on a forearm so that she could bore into his eyes when his hand found its natural course between her legs. She wanted to see him and, yes, to be seen of him as he brought her pleasure. He was tentative and she could easily guess that there had been nothing, no one else for him during those thirteen years no more than there had been for her. Grown unused to the wonder of love, but old habits died hard. Two fingers spread the wetness of her, thumb stopping at her clit to tease it to her interest.

"I've missed _that_ ," she said but the rest caught in her throat when he pressed fingers inside of her, and he kissed her.

"Have you?" He asked, emboldened by the pleasure he brought her already. "What else have you missed?"

His thumb was grinding against her, almost too heavy to be bearable, matched only by the obscene slide of his fingers, in and out and in again, filling her with a thirst for more.

"Oh, you'd make me sound like I'm…" He kissed her cheek, the scarred ruined part of it, her neck, her lips again so that she may see him. "I missed your arms most of all. Being held by you."

He touched his forehead to hers in silent agreement and Sherrezade clung to him like he could be gone again in the next breath − though she was holding onto him for good, this once forever.

"I've missed our conversations at night." His breath was hot and soothing her ever more with every passing second. "After… When it was just us. Talking the day out. I've missed that."

She wanted him, wanted to touch him. Onehandedly pushing open the button to his trousers was a slow enterprise but he lifted his hips to make it easier, gave her another hungry kiss when she took him in her hand.

"I've missed you in the morning," he said.

He wasn't yet at full hardness but firm under her hand, the best sensation she had thought she would never feel again. Unceremoniously, she licked her palm to wet it and stroke him much more smoothly. He nuzzled his face against her temple softly in appreciation. Hard at her touch now, soon rock hard, even. She had missed that as well.

"When we'd drink a cup of poppy tea and decide what we were to do. I was lost without you all those years."

Their lives had been so intricately entwined for so many years before their love had been cut short abruptly it was only normal for them to clash back into one another as fiercely, as passionately as the angst of their separation. Tomorrow, she'd give more thought to what still had been lost, she'd think about her daughter and the life on the surface they could never find again. She'd take some time with her husband to commemorate the missing part of them. For the time being, she only hungered for his company she had so dearly missed, for his tender love. For the time being, nothing at all could spoil her joy.

"And what are we to do now?" She asked and teased him, suddenly stroking much tighter, angling her hips towards him in rhythm with his dispensations.

His breath huffed sharply before he caught up with her, paying her caresses tenfold back. She was wet, hot all over and already full of him but not enough, not yet. She kissed him. Hand cupping his face to keep it close, she kissed him again and he was throbbing in her touch, harder than seemed possible, and she kissed him. He was all pink in the face when she let him go.

"I will make love to you," he said with an oddly formal resolve that made her smile. He had always been quite the overdramatic one. "That's what."

She let go of him only to hold onto his shoulders again as he prompted himself comfortably between her legs. His trousers were barely half tugged down his thighs and in an ideal world, she would have had him entirely bare for her to enjoy but she would have died if she waited even a second more.

"Yes," she said softly and toyed with a curl of hair at the back of his neck. "You will."

He leaned on a shaky arm and guided himself to her with his hand. Once, twice, his dick pressed against her, flat against her clit and the wetness of her below, and she knew he was teasing her by the glint of his eyes. Making her wait was torture for both of them, however, and by the third slide they were both antsy with anticipation and she closed her legs around his hips as he pushed inside. She couldn't help a loud whimper when he entered her, her heart a deafening symphony of drums. His face pressed close to hers and their breaths mingled, not quite kissing, and she felt like she could have burst into laughter or sobs just as equally.

"I love you," she said, lips so close they brushed against his as she spoke. "I love you so much."

He pulled out near entirely only to push back in one deep slide which brought a satisfied groan to both of them. His forearms were entrapping her face in a cocoon of love and comfort and for a moment Sherrezade started to doubt her perception of reality after such long sorrowful years. More than once, more than a hundred times she had dreamed of his embrace only to wake up to an empty bed. But Ja'far once more pushed himself into her all so deliciously, so perfectly she couldn't deny how real, how present he was in her arms. Under him, she was surrounded by his love from all parts of her, the warmth of him. The heat, too. She touched her hands to his cheeks and gave him as many kisses as she could.

"I missed you," she said for the hundredth time today, the thousandth.

"I missed _you_ ," he replied within a heartbeat. "I love you."

She never remembered their love being so free, so carefree when they had roamed the wasteland. The outside world, she had come to realize, was ruthless and dangerous. It had been worth it to live with her Ja'far, but now that she was down here and in his arms again, she would never want to leave for the surface even if they could. In his arms, she felt safer than ever before, fearless and unashamed. She slid a hand between their bodies to touch herself with every thrust of his and he groaned into the kiss he was giving her.

"It's really hot when you do that," he muttered. "I always thought that."

She smiled. She had nothing witty to say, nothing that wasn't an utterance of pure adoration and love, and so she lay wordlessly under him, taking the love of him as preciously as he gave it. Their eyes told the whole story on their own. His fingers entwined with hers so that they touched her together, his fingers calloused by a harsher life on the surface, hers thinner and smoother but, perhaps in this instant, less nimble, overwhelmed as she felt. With every slide of him, their fingers brushed against his dick and it was a cluster of touches and pleasure and she was losing herself in it. She hooked up her legs tighter around his waist and Ja'far moaned at the adjustment.

"You're magic," he said. "There's something magical about you, dear."

If she was magical, then surely Ja'far must be miraculous as well. A man of knowledge, of wisdom, but in her arms he was as much a sorcerer as he accused her to be, charming with her with his attentions. His body was as it had always been, a tool for love. He seemed hardly to pay attention to himself, rather using every part of him for her pleasure and comfort. Much like everything else, he was indeed very adept at that. With every roll of his hips into hers, his touch became more intense, more precise, and Sherrezade was becoming hazy with it.

"Closer," she said, begged. "Here." She pulled on his shoulders to bring Ja'far's body snug against hers, tucking his face into her neck where she felt his breath the most, hot and panting at her ear. "There, that's better."

She had missed the weight of him above her, the way their bodies seemed to melt into one another in lovemaking, blended into one mass that was beyond this world's realm of comprehension. Or maybe it was just as he said, nothing that they couldn't touch or feel, nothing supernatural at all, only two people's hearts beating together to the same rhythm of love.

"Faster, love," she asked of him, "I've yearned for this long enough."

"Me too," he muttered against her ear and kissed it. "Dead-God, me too."

He went faster, targeting all his attentions on the very purpose of bringing her all the pleasure in the world, not enough to make up for thirteen years of despair but enough that the welcome back would be something to remember. She had missed him inside of her, she had missed how her body seemed to embrace him so flush, so intimately, she had missed all the many wonderful ways Ja'far touched her and pleased her. When she crossed the point of no return, she had to muffle her groan into his shoulder for fear the rest of the mutants would hear her even from the distance of her little room from the base of the clan. She came and the world made sense again, and she saw stars in this dimly lit underground cave. Her body was hers again only because it was his.

She realized how tightly she had been gripping Ja'far only when she relented her hold and saw the marks of her fingers dark pink against his skin, slowly fading away. Letting out a breathless laugh, she kissed the marks away in apology. There was such a unique quality to these exact moments, receiving his lovemaking past her own climax. She had always found a particular peace in those fleeting snippets of intimacy, satisfied beyond measure and still being given more and more. Ja'far hadn't used to linger but today, she found him taking his time and was grateful for it. As she was in no rush anymore, neither was he. He kissed the side of her neck softly up to her ear where his whispering voice was warm and tickling.

"You're even more beautiful than in my memories," he said. A hand passed all the curves of her body, flattering them with fingertips soft as feathers. "I was afraid I'd forgotten you, or some of you, but when I saw you there in the cave…" It stopped at her face, cupping her cheek to press her close to him as he gave her a slow long kiss. "I realized I hadn't forgotten a thing at all."

He had always been a sweet talker, from the moment they had met. Clumsy and a little shy, perhaps, but bold beyond his shyness and always trying to find the right words to better seduce her. As if she hadn't been seduced from the start. She remembered some foolishly dangerous moments when they had been in the vast expense of the wasteland where you had better hide yourself when you slept for fear of bandits or rogues. Ja'far had been a passionate young man and more than once she had feared they would get caught in a rather compromising position indeed by the sound of his voice revealing their hiding spot. She chuckled to herself and Ja'far didn't even need to know the reason to respond in kind.

"I wish this moment could last forever," he muttered softly.

"It will," she said. "For the rest of our days, my dear."

She had near forgotten how it felt to be loved, adored, worshipped. Ja'far was right. It only took one glance for it to come back wholly. In his arms, she felt years of solitude turn to nothingness, impalpable grief that no longer had any bearing on her.

"I love you," she said. "Do you know how much I love you?"

He pushed himself deeper inside her, slower now but catching up again as he drew close in his turn. She too loved him, adored and worshipped him. She hoped he knew even a fraction of how much. She hoped he had been certain of it for thirteen years and knew it now more than ever.

"Not as much as…" His breath was panting. Sherrezade rolled her hips in one motion along with his, gave herself to him as best as she could. "… as I love you, darling."

He let go without warning, dropping heavily on top of her as he spent himself inside her. With every breath, their bodies grew even closer as he slowly caught it back. She felt him pull out of her. She was slick, her pleasure and his, but in this instant, she might die if she had to move even an inch. Ja'far certainly did not.

"I want to never let you go," he said, his voice strangely steady and serene. "I fear you'll just be torn from me again if I do."

"Never," she said and held him almost too close, too tight. "We're gonna be together always."

"I hope so. I want to. I've always… I've only ever wanted to be with you, my darling. I haven't stopped wanting it."

Eventually they rearranged themselves, eventually they left the bed for a brief moment − as long as it took for Sherrezade to hastily put on some semblance of a decent outfit to go fetch a bucket of water from the river of Great Pond streaming through the cave and for them to clean up. Fresh again, they buried themselves naked under her covers and talked all night, and a large chunk of the next morning as well. She might have wanted to sleep, but always she had something more to tell him, or she listened to his sweet words and never let herself look away from his kind eyes.

"I love you," she muttered when exhaustion weighed heavy on her, near too much to resist.

Their hands were entwined on the pillow between them and Ja'far pulled them to his lips to press kisses on the palm of her hand.

"I love you," he replied, a whisper, a secret just for her.

She did not realize falling asleep until she found herself waking up. Ja'far was snoring lightly, arms wrapped around her, and Sherrezade felt a tightness in her chest, emotion beyond her control, deeper than she could even fathom. She pushed a curl of hair behind his ear and stroke the scratchy skin of his cheek. Her handsome husband, her mate, her love. Together again now and forever. The rest of her life was smiling upon her. Sherrezade closed her eyes and let herself be lulled back to sleep by his breath, his warmth. One lifetime almost wasn't enough of being every day in his arms.


End file.
